


Survival 101

by bluebells



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Camping in the woods, Five Acts, M/M, Roddy compiles a death list, Snuggling for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roddy is not built for surviving the wilderness but, fortunately, Barry is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival 101

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bballgirl3022](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bballgirl3022/gifts).



> Written for bbalgirll3022 as part of the Five Acts exchange (falling asleep on someone's shoulder, touching for warmth). First foray into the fandom and every warning that entails.

Nick might just have to die. Roddy might have to re-think his reformative ways and take his Danse Macabre out of retirement.

Nick is the reason Roddy is freezing and wet under the mountain rain, huddling against sodden pine for shelter. Nick and his pipe dreams to create a community of Wesen youth for peer support. He thought it was a good idea to camp in the mountains for the weekend. Roddy hated the mountains.

He should have paired up with Holly. She may have been terrifying, but at least she knew how to survive in the wilderness.

Wasn't the Roh-Hatz supposed to lend survival skills through the hunt?

"I thought you'd be better at this," Roddy stutters, jaw clenched against the cold. 

Barry leaps down from his scout up the pine tree, shifting back from bear to man. His hair hangs wet against his forehead and his skin looks grey under the waning moonlight. He's as soaked as Roddy, which is a small consolation because _he_ isn't shaking like a leaf.

Barry frowns at him, and Roddy pushes himself back to his feet under the scrutiny. He knows how pathetic he must look, but he wasn't built for forests. He barely bites back a snarl about how much he hates the rain.

"I can't see smoke from the campsite. The rain's washed away the scent trail," Barry says, sounding frustrated with himself.

"I knew we should have bought firewood from the station," Roddy groans. He wants to lash out at Barry, but Roddy didn't pay the closest attention to where their search had led them, either. They were in a rush to gather wood before the storms broke, and they'd been arguing so loudly about what was too damp or too heavy that they were halfway up the mountain when the heavens abruptly opened. And the heavens were _freezing_.

Camping in Fall; great idea. Roddy was going to kill Nick if he didn't die of hypothermia first.

"C'mon," Barry gestures with a nod of his head. "There's better shelter this way. We'll wait out the rain."

Roddy has a sinking feeling it might be one of those nights when the storm releases all its frustrations. He is bitterly disappointed when Barry invites him to crouch under a low cluster of pine branches. Water drips into his hair.

"You couldn't find a clutch or a cave from on high?" Roddy shivers, glowering when he realises that Barry is hardly affected. 

Barry looks down from his study of the branches over their heads. His face twists in annoyance and he drops the hand that had been nudging Roddy closer to the trunk where the coverage was thickest.

"Did I do something to piss you off?"

Roddy is exhausted. He's hungry, he's cold, but he knows he isn't the only one. He sighs, clutching his arms closer around himself. "It's just a shitty deal, man. Sorry."

Barry looks Roddy over that way he usually does with the girls (and Nick) when he's trying to understand if he can take their words at face value. "Your lips are blue."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Oh, sorry." Barry slides over from his crouch to join Roddy against the pine's trunk. 

"Whoa! What the?" Roddy elbows the Jägerbär in shock when arms pull Roddy back against a shockingly warm, barrelled chest.

Barry barely registers the impact, but he's frowning again when Roddy glares back at him. Barry is so easily confused. 

"I'm built for this; you're not. Monroe will kill me if you get sick and die."

Barry's large hands are so hot through Roddy's thin jacket, Roddy shivers and has to stop himself from tangling their fingers together, pushing Barry's hands over every part of himself until he's warm again. It had been easier to be stubborn and feign ignorance than remind them he didn't have the money for the right clothes. He'd planned to burrow into his sleeping bag and ignore everyone as soon as the sun went down. Monroe had derailed those intentions when he asked Roddy and Barry to gather firewood.

Another name for Roddy's list.

"'M not gonna get sick and die."

"Your lips are blue, I can feel you shivering," Barry shakes his head, like he honestly doesn't understand why Roddy would fight him on this. "We've been out here for hours. You could sink into hypothermic shock. In the morning they'll make a hide out of me."

His hands stroke up and down Roddy's sides, and the last of Roddy's protests suffocate under the weight of Barry's pleading gaze. Roddy is more cold than he is unsettled, so he nods and lets Barry tuck him against his chest, rubbing heat over his chestbone where Barry says it's the most important. He murmurs a lot of things that night about survival, warm breath on Roddy's neck, wringing rain from the hem of Roddy's clothes as Roddy sags, cold and tired, against his shoulder.

When he opens his eyes, the forest is pale with early morning. Roddy doesn't understand why his ears are ringing or why his first waking thought scrambles _Barry, Barry, Barry_ until he registers the deep, chilling roar above his head, tremoring through him. Roddy grunts when a furry chest crowds him back to the damp brambles; the smells of pine, soil and _Barry_ fill his nose as the Jägerbär leans over him protectively; _No, mine, out_. 

At the edge of their impromptu shelter, Holly's curious face sharpens with a vicious snarl, red eyes flaring. 

Roddy may go deaf before he can kill everyone on his to-do list. He pushes ineffectively at Barry's hulking frame. "Barry, it's Holly, snap _out_ of it 'n get off me!" 

The fur recedes and Barry blinks at Roddy with those dazed blue eyes like he's waking from a dream, disoriented and heavy and unfortunately immune to Roddy's frustrated attempts to push him off as quickly as he'd like.

They both curse when raindrops are shaken free on their heads as Holly rises, releasing the branch. "They're fine," she calls to the approaching search party. "Trust me, they're fine."

Roddy almost misses the days Holly couldn't speak, but he's not game enough to add her to his list.


End file.
